Withdrawal

            by Luke Vavasour

 

            “Times are hard for everyone these days,” the voice poured through the receiver as sweet as maple syrup.

            “I know. I know… Don’t worry about me though, I’ll be fine. Seriously, this could be a blessing in disguise. I’ve got all this time off. Maybe I can write that book I’ve been thinking about writing since forever, you remember, right? My memoirs.”

            “Oh I know honey, I really want you to write your memoirs, but I’ve been so worried about you. We all have been. We have barely heard from you in the last couple years. Maybe you could hold off on the memoirs until after you have a steady job?” She was trying hard to convince him.

            “Yeah… I guess you’re right. Don’t worry about me, really mom I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be fine. I gotta run though. Gotta be at the bank at four and I really oughta get ready.” Jay was nowhere near ready.

“Oh, ok. Another Job interview today?”

“Yeah… Bye mom.” The phone disconnected and he let out a deep breathe. Since he had woken up all he had done was sit around the house reading the ‘Help Wanted’ section of his local newspaper, The Berkeley Daily Planet, and watch TV while eating Frosted Corn Flakes. An important part of any complete breakfast. He sighed. It had been almost two years since he had lost his job at the bank in Hayward.

            The TV sizzled for a few seconds after he clicked the life out of it with the remote. One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three. He grunted as he stood up from the couch. While the shower water heated up he put the coffee maker on so he would have a fresh cup on his way out the door. He clicked on the radio. Oldies. Popular rock. Rap. News. He left it on the news. He had his routine down pat. Wake up. Watch TV. Eat sweetened cereal with the goofy cartoon logos targeted for kids. Maybe take a shower if he had something important to do. Maybe talk to his mom on the phone or maybe go to the bank looking for a solution to his financial troubles. Loans piled up on loans. Today was a day for a shower. The water was scolding hot. It kept him sharp. He would need to be sharp today. The news was the same everyday it seemed. Still controversy on which way Prop 47 would go; the anchorman even predicted protests about it, still nothing new in Iraq, still no stop to the string of bank robberies that had been happening all over the bay area for the last year, still no solution for the rising gas prices. Everything was falling apart it seemed. Jay wondered if he would fall apart today. Hold it together man. Been out of work so long God only knows I could use that money. He turned the water off and reached for a towel.

            After drying himself thoroughly, he quickly stuffed his legs into his pants and fastened the button only. Tie thrown loosely around his neck, shirt haphazardly thrown on, he grabbed his coffee and headed for the door; he would fix everything to give that professional air before going in. The coffee burned his tongue as he ran out the door half dressed and hopped in the car. He had a whole list of things to do before going to the bank at four. First he had to go in to check his balance. Second he had to go out and eat because he knew he would need his strength. Third he had to review his portfolio to make sure it was all in order.

            His car, an Acura Legend ‘95, rolled quietly backwards out of his drive way and then roared to life as he gunned the engine down the block. The car was actually rather deceiving. From the outside it appeared to be nothing more than your average used luxury car from the mid 90’s, but the engine was totally new. The paintjob was peeling in places and he had never bothered to get it repainted because in his neighborhood it would only get keyed again. Jay had had a race car engine installed almost a year ago as a present to himself around his birthday. His car was his passion, his hobby. He had even had a roll bar installed. Jay had always been a good driver. Jay liked to believe that if he hadn’t gotten such a great job at the Hayward bank and discovered his love for banking he would have become a race car driver. Maybe he still could be one, after all he lost his job years ago. Even though his Acura could easily out run most cars on the street, he still obeyed the speed limit the majority of the time.

            For the last 9 months his antenna never rolled up more than halfway due to an accident he had been in. The radio always came in with static because of his bad antenna. He clicked the news on again. “…with slight rain kshhk and clouds kshhh kshhhh high 70’s kshhh back to you Tom.” After playing with the dial a little bit he was able to get the signal more clearly. “Thanks Brad. Surprising as it is, the police still have no new leads in what has become known as the Lone Bank Robber Case. For the last year and a half one masked man in business attire has single handedly robbed over 18 banks through out the bay area.  Police suspect an inside man due to the robbers obvious knowledge of each bank’s-” the radio switched to Hip-Hop. During the four years that Jay had worked for the Hayward bank he had not once witnessed a bank robbery. However; he had been responsible for the arrest of one man after reviewing the case file. Jay was not just good at his job, he was great. He knew banking like the back of his hand. There was no doubt in his mind that if he were still working at any bank, with access to the case file, he would be able to catch the Lone Ranger in a month. After all, the guy was only human.

            He was almost at his destination at this point so he turned the radio off altogether. The Acura rolled smoothly into the parking lot and came to a virtually undetectable stop neatly parked in the slot labeled 21. Jay fixed his tie and tucked in his shirt before hopping out of the car. Ha. Almost forgot to zip my fly. He zipped his fly and then jogged over to his bank to get his statement. The door to Bank of America swung open and the wind carried over sounds of voices yelling. Jay’s heart started pounding. Was someone trying to rob the bank? His legs, firmly planted before, now took flight as he sprung over a bike rack and ran full force into the bank. As Jay was on his way in, an angry homeless man was protesting as the security guard escorted him out. Apparently it was cold outside and the benches inside were comfortable. Gotta love Berkeley. Jay took a look around. One of the four security guards in the bank looked familiar; perhaps he had known him at the Hayward bank. The quiet if the bank impressed Jay more than anything. He definitely would not have minded working there. After receiving his bank statement, he sent it to the deep confines of his pocket never to be seen again by his eyes.  

            With still half an hour to spare before four, Jay walked around the corner to his favorite pizza spot: Arnells. The place was small. Garage small. You could fit maybe three cars inside if you lined them up going straight back: the very definition of a hole in the wall. Granted, there had been remodeling and the whole joint was fixed up and presentable now, but it had been even smaller before with only a counter over which the business was transacted. Back then you could probably only fit one car inside going straight back. Now there were a few tables for people to sit and a counter with toppings for the pizza. No matter what the place looked like on the outside over the years, one thing never changed: they had the best thin slice pizza Berkeley had to offer. Hands down. Jay ordered two slices and then sat down at the small two person table towards the door. He opened up his portfolio so that he could start cramming before he had to be there at four. It was really all pretty boring bank talk in the portfolio, but Jay needed the work and was not about to go in to this opportunity without fully preparing himself. It was necessary that he was the very best man for the job. Otherwise, who knew how long he would spend his life watching TV all day.

His pizza came a mere two minutes after ordering and he set right into devouring it. If I had a job at Bank of America, I would eat Arnells everyday, he thought to himself. After racking his brain for another twenty minutes on the portfolio he finally gave up and threw it away in the trash can right outside. Still had ten more minutes til’ four. Jay jogged back to his car just to get his juices flowing. He was still early so he sat in silence in his car at the back of the parking lot facing out toward the street. He closed his eyes and basked in the silence. He let it creep into every pore of his body. He let it crawl over his skin and slip into his ears. Glorious silence.

            The clock ticked down minute after minute. Three fifty-six. Three fifty-seven. Three fifty-eight. Three fifty-nine. He counted down the seconds. One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three. He opened his eyes and blinked out the sunshine. He sat for a moment and let his eyes dilate, preparing himself. He calmly hopped out of his car and walked straight toward the bank, his mind racing exploring all the possible outcomes. He took a deep breathe and walked confidently forward. Two security guards emerged from the back of the armored truck that had just pulled up out front carrying bags of money. That was the drop off for the day. Jay smiled at them and squinted his eyes to protect from the glare of the sun that was dropping ever lower in the sky as the day progressed. He held the door opened and allowed them to pass inside before entering himself.

            For a moment he stood just inside the door way and closed his eyes. Banks are always so silent. He let the silence wash over him once more as he had done in the car. He quickly pulled an all black ski mask from his back pocket and pulled it over his face before stepping out of the camera’s blind spot. A shiny revolver was produced from inside his jacket and the silence in the bank was shattered all at once. Counting the two guards driving the armored truck that made six guards in all. Five was his previous record, but hey, he was always trying to raise the bar professionally, because boy did he love his job.